The Soterion Mission (16 page)

Her presence kindled in him a dreadful fire. The flames of failure teased, tormented, and finally consumed him. The pain surpassed the Z-branding of his childhood, swallowing up all other thoughts and desires. Reason fled. In that blind instant, one action alone could assuage his pain: he must kill that woman!

And so it was that Timur the Terrible raised his javelin and cast it at Roxanne. And so it was, too, that Navid the Defender – the noble, loyal Navid – sacrificed his life by throwing himself into its path. The steel point passed clean through his ribs and pierced his heart.

Cyrus’ oldest and dearest companion was dead before he hit the ground. The terrible stillness that descended over the scene was eventually broken by a melancholy howl. On and on it went, echoing off the walls, into the trees and across the mountains like the wailing of a legendary host at the loss of its leader. With one soulless exception, all who heard it, even those far away in the square and working on the terraces, shivered with pity for poor, bereaved Corby.

Falling to his knees, Cyrus cradled his dead comrade in his arms. There were no words for his sorrow. Beside him, Sammy began to cry. Roxanne stood open mouthed, looking first at the corpse at her feet, then at the devil on the wall.

Unintentionally, Padmar gave Timur the excuse he needed. “What have you done, Abhay?” she asked quietly as Corby’s unhappy wail died down.

“Done?” he retorted. Having wrestled his feelings back under control, he saw that maybe all was not lost. He turned to the warriors around him. “So perish all traitors!” he cried. “It’s as I told you, isn’t it? That idiot Yash got the wrong woman, but we have now found the right one – and there she is, still with the false Constants who have come to cheat us of what is ours.

“Snake-tongued, aren’t they? See how they have tricked our own guards into joining them, just as they tricked Yash’s patrol.”

Padmar hesitated for a moment. Her doubts about Abhay would have to wait. Once more the situation required command and authority. Abhay had shown such qualities, albeit rather crudely, and she had to do the same. She was, after all, the acting Emir of Alba.

“Abhay is right!” she shouted. “We will allow no traitors beyond our walls, Constant or not.”

She pointed at Roxanne. “Except you. You are welcome. You have returned from Yonne to help us, so please enter. Guards, allow in the Z-marked woman and shoot dead anyone who tries to accompany her!”

The Alban warriors heard her words in silence. They might not like what they had heard, but an Emir, acting or otherwise, had to be obeyed. Lacking Yash’s strength, independence and iron sense of justice, they would do as their commander had ordered, opening the gates to one stamped as an enemy and shutting them against former colleagues and their friends.

Roxanne knew there could be no discussion. If she so much as hinted to Cyrus what she was going to do, he would stop her. Time was short and Timur’s violence made it plain that Taja’s plan had failed. The key was inside the walls of Alba and she alone was allowed in.

Lost in his thoughts as he gazed at Navid’s lifeless face, Cyrus hardly heard Roxanne whisper as she hurried past. “I’ll be fine, Cy. And whatever you do, don’t try to follow me.”

What was that? Who’ll be fine? He looked up. The gate opened wide enough to admit a single person… “No! Roxanne, no! Come back!”

Before he had time to lay down the body of his friend and scramble to his feet, the gate had closed. He had not even said goodbye. Corby turned from the corpse of his master and started licking Cyrus’ hand. Seeing his friend’s distress, Sammy clung tenderly to his arm. “It’s alright, Cyrus,” he said between sobs. “Your Roxanne knows what she’s doing, don’t she? Trust her!”

At that moment, Cyrus did not feel like trusting anyone. Here he was, far from a home he had abandoned, accompanied by only a broken-hearted dog and a weeping boy. Zavar was dead; Navid was dead; goodness knows what had happened to Taja; and now his dearest Roxanne had entrusted herself once more to the monster who had twice sought to destroy her life. It was all too dreadful, too depressing to contemplate. It was finished.

On the other side of the wall, a peculiar procession had formed. At its head marched Timur, Roxanne on his left, Padmar on his right. My two women, he smirked; and if I had to choose between them, the short, squat one wouldn’t stand a chance. He was bored with her already and looking forward to getting to work on Roxanne.

Behind Timur there followed several dozen marching Defenders. As the column made its way towards the square, word spread quickly about events by the gate, and small crowds of Albans turned out to cheer the returning hero. He’d done it! That strange-looking man had actually found the literate woman from Yonne who would open the Soterion and read the secrets of the Long Dead! Excited by the noise, young children ran out of the houses and danced along, whooping and clapping, in front of the parade.

Timur had triumphed.

As the party entered the square, the atmosphere changed. There were plenty of people waiting, mostly archers, but none of them was cheering or waving. Yash and his patrol were still standing beside the well, as Padmar had ordered. At their feet, laid out on the cold stone, was something Timur recognised at once. He had seen so many – indeed, he had seen this particular one before. It was a naked corpse, the horribly, brutally mutilated corpse of Taja, sometime Mudir of the West Tower.

“Abhay,” cried Yash when the procession was ten paces from him, “did you do this?”

Letting go of Padmar’s hand while maintaining his tight hold on Roxanne, Timur took a couple of steps forward. “Let me see…Yes, I believe I slew this traitor. She deceived us.”

“Liar!” shouted Yash. “It is you who have deceived us. She was a good, honest Constant who gave up her life so Roxanne might live.”

Padmar made one last effort to maintain her authority and dispel her gathering cloud of doubt. She turned to the Defenders who had accompanied her and ordered Yash’s immediate arrest. At a signal from Yash, the archers in the square raised their loaded bows.

Yash advanced to the edge of the well. “Albans!” he cried. “After all those winters of peace and harmony, are we going to start killing each other now? Of course not! There is only one person whom everyone – including Abhay – trusts to tell the truth. Roxanne, you know what’s happening. Tell us!” He pointed at Timur. “Who is this man?”

Roxanne, her arm held fast by the man she detested, edged nearer to the well. “My name is indeed Roxanne,” she began. “I am a Constant from the community of Yonne. Long ago, we were approached by a deputation from this community with a request for assistance. You had found what you believed was the Soterion…”

As she spoke, Roxanne’s mind went back to the occasion of a similar speech in front of Emir Leiss and the Majlis of Della Tallis. She had just met Cyrus then, the man who had believed in her from the outset. It was his unfailing faith, support and love that had kept her going – Oh, how she wished he were here now to give her strength!

“We agreed to help you,” she continued, “but our mission was ambushed and destroyed by the Grozny Zeds, the foulest of all the barbarian hoards. I was the sole survivor. As a prisoner, I saw how the tribe’s unique and malevolent strength depended on its fiendish leader. Alone among the Zeds, he combined pitiless cruelty with a frightening intelligence.”

Roxanne fought to ignore the growing pain of Timur’s claw-like grip. “To save my life that I might one day escape and continue my mission to the Soterion,” she went on, “I told my captor about the existence of the cave. He pursued me here after my escape, wheedled his way into your confidence, tricked you and lied to you.”

The whole square stood motionless as the ghastly truth dawned. “Men and women of Alba, there is no such person as Abhay, the lost Constant.” She pointed to Taja’s mutilated corpse. “Would a Constant have done that? Would a Constant have tried to kill me, as he did by the wall? You know the answer, don’t you?

“This monster standing beside me, who clings to you like a poisonous parasite, is in fact Timur, Malik of the Grozny Zeds!”

As the words of revelation and denunciation died away, the angry crowd instinctively surged forward. For an instant, Roxanne thought Timur’s only interest was in saving himself. But he let go of her arm only to draw a small dagger from his belt. As he thrust it into her chest, their eyes met for one last time. Green on red, kindness on cruelty, good on evil. Although dizzy with the pain spreading through her like venom, she held his awful gaze until he looked away, defeated.

From the mouths of Yash and Roxanne and in the body of poor Taja, the Albans had all the evidence they needed of Timur’s guilt. It was left to the archers of Alba to administer the penalty.

The condemned man had run no more than three paces before the commands “Take aim! Shoot!” rang out across the square. Fifty arrows whirred like hornets through the morning air and buried themselves in their target. Timur the Terrible stood transfixed for a moment – a hideous pincushion parody of a Long Dead martyr – then sank silently to the ground. Unmoving, he lay like a slaughtered porcupine in the spreading pool of his blood.

Roxanne’s wound, though serious, was not immediately fatal. While some of the onlookers rushed to her aid, others seized the broken Padmar and led her away to prison. Yash and Jannat, having checked that Roxanne was in no immediate danger, hurried to tell Cyrus and Sammy what had happened.

On Yash’s command, the gates of Alba were opened wide to welcome in the rest of Roxanne’s party. The Soterion guards held back to let the visitors enter first. Through the shadow of the archway, the remaining members of the mission passed together: a large, sorrowful-looking dog at the heels of a pale-faced man with a tear-streaked face who held tightly to the hand of a young, half-blind boy.

Willing hands carried Roxanne to a nearby house where she was laid on a bed and made as comfortable as her condition allowed. Cyrus was soon at her side, holding her hand and whispering to her during her moments of consciousness. Outside, Yash supervised the lifting of the lion. When it had been placed on the ground next to the plinth, he examined the place where it had rested. There was nothing there but a smooth surface of stone, lighter in colour where the base of the statue had protected it from the elements. It contained no hollow that might have concealed a key.

Asal hurried inside to speak to Cyrus. “Where exactly did it say the key was, Cyrus?” he asked quietly.

“Beneath the statue.”

“Well, we’ve moved the lion and there’s no key underneath, just the stone base.”

Cyrus thought for a moment. “Have you looked at the bottom of the statue itself? Under the lion’s feet?”

Asal shook his head. ”No! Of course! Thank you!” The guard turned to go.

“Asal?”

“Yes?”

“Let me know when you’ve found it, please. There’s someone here to whom it’s rather important.”

“I will do, Cyrus. Back soon, I hope.”

As Asal left the room, Roxanne opened her eyes and smiled at Cyrus. “You’re right, Cy. It is rather important. Thank you.”

They did not have to wait long. Shortly after a loud cheer arose from the crowd in the square, a small deputation entered the room. First were Yash and Jannat, followed by Asal. Sammy, with Corby at his heels, came last, bearing a small box. On reaching Cyrus, he opened it to reveal a shiny brass key, as clean and bright as on the day it had been made.

Cyrus lifted out the key and held it out for Roxanne to see. “There’s writing on it, Cy. My eyes are blurred. Would you read it for me?”

“There’s only one word, Roxy. SOTERION. Our mission is over.”

She shook her head gently on the pillow. “No, Cy. My part is almost over, but yours hasn’t even started yet.”

Cyrus struggled to speak. “Without you, Roxy!” he choked. “I really don’t think I could…”

“You must, Cy. My task is done: I have taught you all I know. For my sake and for the sake of everyone, you must go on.”

Cyrus’ mouth was trembling too much to reply.

At Roxanne’s request, that afternoon she was carried on her bed to the Soterion. Cyrus walked beside her, urging her to stay with them and witness the final fulfilment of her mission.

The bed was placed at the mouth of the cave. Alone, Cyrus walked forward and unlocked the door. It swung open easily, letting forth a magical smell of leather and paper and ink and glue such as he had never previously encountered. The new and alluring scent of books was almost irresistible. So, too, was the prospect of having print to read after days and days of learning from scratchings on stones. Nevertheless, he did not enter. He returned instead to the small crowd, stooped down and picked up Roxanne in his arms.

Asking Sammy and Yash to follow with burning brands to give them light, he crossed the threshold of the Soterion like a groom with his new bride. The room was set out as if they were expected. Next to a low couch, where Cyrus gently laid his dying partner, stood a wooden desk and chair. Beyond, covering three walls and rising from floor to ceiling, were shelves and shelves of books.

The light bearers waited respectfully near the entrance as Roxanne, with a supreme effort of will, raised herself on one elbow and looked about her. “Oh, Cyrus!” she gasped. “How I have dreamed of this moment! And now it is here, it is even more wonderful than I had expected. Thank you! Oh, thank you!”

Exhausted, she sank back onto the couch. Cyrus walked over to her and kissed her gently on the brow. “Lie quietly, my Roxy darling,” he said softly, “and I will read you to sleep. A bedtime story.”

Taking a light from Yash, he searched quickly along the shelves until he found what he was looking for. He returned to the desk and sat down, opening the book before him at the first page. All was still.

“I think you’ll like this one, Roxy,” he said, turning to see if she was asleep yet. Her eyes were closed and in the flickering light he thought he saw not only Roxanne, but Zavar, Navid and Taja standing there, all smiling down at her. And as he gazed, Roxanne, young again and happy, appeared to rise up and stand beside them.